


Entertainment for clever kids

by Formula_Tea



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:10:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formula_Tea/pseuds/Formula_Tea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruno and Nico have been left to entertain themselves in the garage. They seem to have differing views on what entertainment is though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entertainment for clever kids

**Author's Note:**

> So I've kind of been hooked on writing baby Bruno and baby Nico over the past couple of days. May write more of these. Don't know yet.

The little boy cheered every time a car came past the garage, which was beginning to annoy Nico a little. He’d glance at him every now and again, pretending not to be watching the other child because he was _not_ talking to Bruno. Bruno was stupid.

When Nico had told his mother that, she’d told him to be nice, but it was _true_. His uncle couldn’t win all the time. Surely Bruno must have seen when the other people won _sometimes_. Nico’s mother had told him that it was just because he was four, and he didn’t understand everything properly. Nico didn’t believe that. He hadn’t been stupid when he’d been four.

Nico just turned back to his colouring book, trying to make sure his colouring was inside the lines. He’d finished the first picture and had moved onto the dot-to-dot on the next page when he felt something prod his leg.

_Oh no._

Bruno looked up at him, hopefully. Nico tried to roll his eyes before turning back to the dot-to-dot. He wasn’t going to play with Bruno. He’d only end up in trouble when the younger boy didn’t get his own way…

“Want to play racing?” Bruno asked, offering Nico one of the toy cars he was holding.

“Racing’s boring,” Nico said, not looking at the four year old or his car.

“Is not,” Bruno said, confused. Maybe Nico didn’t know what racing was. He peered over the edge of the table. “What are you doing?”

“It’s mine,” Nico said. Mama had brought it for him especially for the race. He wasn’t going to let some grubby, _stupid_ , four year old touch it and colour outside the lines.

“What are you doing?” Bruno asked, climbing up onto the chair beside Nico and frowning down at the dot-to-dot.

Nico sighed, there wasn’t going to be any getting rid of him.

“It’s a dot-to-dot,” Nico said. “It’s for clever kids.”

Bruno’s face brightened up and he dropped the cars. “Can I do one?”

“No,” Nico said, definitely. “Have to be a big boy to do dot-to-dots. Have to know how to count.”

“Can count,” Bruno said, delighted. “Can count all the way to one hundred.”

“No you can’t,” Nico said.

“Can,” Bruno said, proudly. “Look: um, dois, tres, quato, cinco, seis, sete, oito, nove, dez…”

Nico turned back to his dot to dot, trying his best to ignore Bruno, but Bruno only got more persistent, shuffling over on his chair and leaning against Nico.

“…onze, doze, treze, catorze, quinze, dezesseis, dezessete, dexoito, desenove, vinte…”

“Ok,” Nico snapped. This was even more annoying than the cheering.

Bruno just beamed. “…vinte e um, vinte e dois, vinte e tres, vinte e quato, vinte e cinco, vinte e seis, vinte e sete, vinte e oito, vinte e nova, trinta…”

“You can stop now, Bruno,” Nico said, but the younger boy just ignored him.

“Trinta e um, trinta e dois, trinta e tres, trinta e quato, trinta e cinco, trina e ste, trinta e oito, trinta e nove, quarenta, quarenta e um, quarenta e dois…”

Nico clasped a hand over Bruno’s mouth, hoping it would get him to stop talking, but the Brazilian just continued to count, the muffled words feeling funny against Nico’s hand. He was still grinning when Nico pulled his hand away, wiping spit on his jumper.

“…cinquenta nove, sessenta, sessenta e um, sessenta e dois, sessenta e tres, sessenta e quatro, sessenta e cinco, sessenta e seis, sessenta e sete, sessenta oito, sessenta nove, setenta, setenta e um, setenta e dois, setenta e tres, setenta e quatro…”

“Bruno, _please_ stop,” Nico begged.

“…setenta e cinco, setenta e seis, setenta e sete, setenta e oito, setenta e nove, oitenta, oitenta e um, oitenta e dois, oitenta e tres, oitenta e quatro, oitenta e conco, oitenta e seis…”

It had to be nearly over by now, Nico thought. Maybe Brazilians had more numbers between one and a hundred though. Maybe this was never going to end…

“…noventa, noventa e um, noventa e dois, noventa e tres, noventa e quatro, noventa e cinco, noventa e seis, noventa e sete, noventa e oito, noventa e nove… CEM!”

Bruno cheered, throwing his chubby little fists into the air and sending Nico’s crayons flying. Nico felt like cheering with him.

He looked around the little garage. It had to be almost time for Papa to come back so they could go to lunch, didn’t it? None of the people around looked like they were going to stop any time soon.

“My Uncle Ayrton taught me,” Bruno said, proudly. “Mama says she wishes he hadn’t though…”

“Does he only teach you annoying things?” Nico asked.

Bruno frowned, forehead folded in concentration. “Hasn’t taught me any annoying things, don’t think. I can name all the cars too!”

Nico sighed and looked around the garage again. Maybe there was somewhere else he could sit and do his dot-to-dot where Bruno wouldn’t be able to reach him, but he wasn’t allowed to leave the little table he was sat at. He didn’t want to get in the way of anybody from Papa’s work.

“McLawen, Ferrari, Low-Tusk…”

“Do you want to do racing?” Nico asked, suddenly.

Bruno stopped in his tracks, eyes widening. “You want to do racing with me?!”

Nico nodded. It was the only way he could think of to stop him talking.

Bruno beamed, handing Nico the car. “No cheatededing like your Papa though.”

Nico sighed. He was not getting into that argument again…


End file.
